


Bigmouth Strikes Again

by stellarstella



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crack Treated Seriously, Death, F/F, Fluff and Angst, The angst is strong in this one, its essentially just a clusterfuck of why my friends hate me, seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 21:41:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4195917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stellarstella/pseuds/stellarstella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Series of Cartinelli ficlets taken from my tumblr, also known as ¨let's see how many ways I can kill off Angie"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Oxygen She Can't Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Smiths, it seemed appropriate.

It was growing harder and harder for Angie to draw breath.

The pain in her abdomen was secondary, a pulsing awareness that had long since ceased to cause her any real agony.  She was dimly aware of warm hands pressing down on that spot, a voice in her ear frantically whispering desperate platitudes, and all the while she felt like she was choking on air. 

“Peg?” she wheezed, unable to speak above a whisper.

Then there was something warm against her cheek, the voice next to her ear increasing in volume, and she heard her name in that velvet tone, “ _Angie, please, Angie.”_

“I’m pregnant, Peg.” Her weak laugh was cut off by violent coughing, trying to dispel the burning in her chest, and she felt something hot spray her lips, her face, and her eyes were filled with drops of red.  

The voice in her ear stopped. The hands lifted from her abdomen, one of them ghosting down over her lower stomach, and the other gently wiping at her face.  She heard a choking noise, but this time it wasn’t her, and that couldn’t be her screaming “Angie, oh my darling, no, no,  _no_.”

“You would have made a great mom, English,” she smiled, using the energy she didn’t have to cover her lover’s hand with her own.  She was dimly aware of warm lips covering hers, but  _oh god_ she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t see, and the last thing she recognised was the anguished repetition of her own name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me at agentpegster.tumblr.com


	2. In Memorium

The minute Peggy walked into their apartment, Angie knew the day had been far worse than she feared.

Slamming the door behind her, Peggy strode into the living room and collapsed onto the couch, burying her face in her hands as she toed off her shoes and curled her knees up to her chest. Angie stood stock-still in the doorway from the kitchen, not daring to move, not knowing if Peggy realized she was there.

Peggy’s quiet, broken sobs split the pounding silence, and to Angie it seemed several ages until she finally looked up, her face blotchy and tear-streaked.

“Oh darling, I’m sorry,” she said, hastily wiping her face on her sleeve. “I didn’t see you there, how was your day?”

“A bit better than yours, I think,” Angie smiled tightly. A pit of betrayal coiled tightly in her stomach, and Angie felt so ashamed to even acknowledge its existence. “How was the dedication?”

Peggy grimaced. “Utterly horrid, if I have to hear one more time about Steve’s ‘selfless bravery in the face of Nazi terror’ I might have to follow in his footsteps.” Her voice cracked even as she smiled and stood, and Angie was nearly sick.

Peggy walked toward her, stopping just short as Angie refused to meet her eyes. “Angie?” she asked quietly, reaching gently to clasp Angie’s hand. She yanked it away. “Darling?”

Angie squeezed her eyes shut and ducked her head. Peggy gently touched her fingers to her chin, forcing Angie to meet her eyes. “Angie?”

She gulped. “I’m sorry, English, it’s just-”

“Wait a minute, darling," her voice softened, ¨are you jealous? Of me and Steve?”

Angie paused before nodding her head.

“Oh darling.” Peggy pulled her into a tight hug, pressing her lips to her temple. “Just because I loved Steve doesn’t mean I love you any less,” she murmured in her ear. “You are the best thing that could’ve happened to me, Angie Martinelli.”

Angie relaxed into her Peggy’s embrace, bringing her arms up to clutch at her back, for here she was warm, here she was safe, here she was loved.


	3. Intoxicating Intoxication

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally a cute fic about Peggy not being able to hold her liquor. Oops.

The music was loud, the air was hot, and the energy in the bar was palpable. Angie stood at the door, two coats slung over her arm and an eyebrow raised at two men that should’ve moved it somewhere private a while ago. She scanned the crowd, glancing down at her watch. Peggy was spending way too much time in the washroom.

“Excuse us.” The couple that had been necking it on the dance floor brushed past her, giggling as they attempted to get through the revolving door with joined hands. Angie rolled her eyes and turned back to look over the crowd again, finally spotting Peggy staggering towards her.

“Well then, English, that took you long enough!” Angie held out a coat, which Peggy accepted silently, and slung her arm around her best girl’s shoulders. “I thought you’d fallen in or somethin’.”

Peggy ducked her face into Angie’s neck, mumbling something unintelligible.

“Can’t understand ya, Peg.”

“I vomited, Angie”

Ahe laughed, holding Peggy tighter as they made their way into the street, “I think you’ve had a little too much to drink. Good thing you don’t have work tomorrow, otherwise you’d _really_ be-” Her words were cut off as Peggy sagged against her, going completely boneless in her arms. “Peg?” Angie maneuvered Peggy’s dead weight against the wall and sat her down. Her head lolled as Angie let go. “Peggy?!” Angie asked again, growing frantic, dropping to her knees and grabbing Peggy’s shoulders and shaking gently. “Peggy, wake up, honey, we gotta go home.”

Peggy groaned and slowly lifted her head, blinking blearily up at Angie’s concerned face. “Ang?”

“Hey, babe,” Angie whispered, brushing a lock of hair out of Peggy’s face.

“What happened?”

“You fainted straight into my arms.” Angie sat back on her heels, the panic draining away. “You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes,” she joked, standing up and extending a hand to pull a still shaky Peggy to her feet. “Now c'mon, let’s get you home. I know a secret Italian hangover cure with your name on it.”

Peggy hummed weakly and started to push herself off the ground, only to fall down again. "Angie, I don't feel very..." Her voice drifted off as she sagged back against the wall.

"Peggy?" Angie whimpered. "Peggy, honey, look at me." There had to be a phone back at the bar, she could call Jarvis and have him pick them up within minutes, but this part of town was not one where you left a woman alone at night, and Angie would be damned if she asked a policeman for help a block away from a queer bar.  She settled for lightly shaking Peggy's shoulders. "You gotta wake up, honey, please."  Peggy's head simply lolled from side to side. "Peg-"

"Angie?"

Angie shot to her feet, jerking her head around towards the source of that voice. The woman's hat hid her face in shadow, but Dottie Underwood's signature curls shone in the light of the streetlamp, a halo.

"Dottie!" Angie gasped, relieved. "Thank god you-"

"Oh, gee, Angie, what happened?" Dottie exclaimed, her hand over her heart as she saw Peggy drooped against the wall. "Were you attacked or somethin'?"

Angie gestured helplessly. "I don't know, she's just..." she gulped, trying to hold back tears.  Dottie's arm snaked around her shoulders and squeezed in wordless comfort. "Can ya find somewhere with a phone?"

There was a scream of tires on pavement, and Angie was temporarily blinded by the sudden headlights whipping around the corner. She leapt backwards, pulling Dottie with her and shielding the still unconscious Peggy behind her legs as the car screeched to a stop where she had been standing just moments before. "Hey watch where you're going, you-"

A quick pop sounded off, and agony ripped through Angie's side.  She fell to the ground, head pillowed in Peggy's sprawled legs as she clutched at the wound,  _she'd been shot, she'd been shot, Peggy, Peggy, Peggy_.  There were voices shouting all around, none of them English, and god, that couldn't be  _Dottie's_ voice mixed in among the babble.  Peggy's limp body was pulled roughly from beneath her, and Angie screamed, because it hurt like hell when her head cracked against the ground, and her side was on fire, and the woman she was madly in love with was being manhandled into a car, _ave Maria, piena di grazia, il Signore č con te, tu sei benedetta fra le donne e benedetto č il frutto..._

Dottie's smiling face loomed above her. "Sorry, Angie. It's nothing personal."  She pressed a gun to Angie's forehead. The bang was mixed in with the slamming of a car door.


	4. Phone Calls Can Be Nervewracking

The phone rang six times before Angie picked up. “Hello?” She sounded breathless.

“Angie, it’s me.” Peggy leaned her forearms on her desk, twisting the phone cord around and around her finger.

“Oh, Peggy, I-”

“Angie, please just listen to me, I need to tell you something.”

Silence.

Peggy didn’t know what that meant.

“Darling, I-” The tip of her finger was starting to turn blue. “I’m heading out on an assignment and I just…”  _Say it, Carter_. “This isn’t…”

She dropped into her chair and crossed and uncrossed her legs. “Angie, I think I’m in love with you,” she blurted out,“ and I’m terrified, and every time I leave the house I’m sure I’m going to be killed before you know, and I-” Peggy sucked in a deep breath. She pulled her finger out of the phone cord. Her finger flushed painfully as the blood rushed back in, in stark contrast to her pale skin. Red, white, and blue. Angie had still not said a word.

“I know it’s not right,” she proceeded more calmly, “and I don’t expect you to return the feeling, but I just… wanted you to… know,” she finished lamely. A weight lifted off her chest she hadn’t realized was there.

There was no response other than a quiet rustling on the other end of the line.

“Please say something, darling.”

A muffled  _pop_.

“Angie?”

“That was a lovely speech, Agent Carter,” a familiar voice cooed.

Peggy shot out of her seat, clutching the phone to her ear. “What have you done?” The weight was back, ten, a hundred, a thousand times heavier than before.

Dottie laughed quietly. “Well, Peggy, you’ll just have to come and see.” The dial tone sounded as the line went dead, and Peggy dropped the phone and sprinted out of the office because please God no this couldn’t happen to her again.

Jazzy chords played softly from the record player, the spring breeze from the open window fluttered gently through the curtains, and the floor of the kitchen was slick with blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *takes a shot*


	5. The Cold Never Bothered Me Anyway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no idea how close this was to being a Frozen AU.

Peggy Carter was a federal spy.  She’d lied on her enlistment papers to be accepted into the British military, served on the European front during World War II, had survived countless life-or-death missions with the SSR, and was currently under attack in a park on the bank of the Hudson River. 

“Angie, stop!” she yelled, barely dodging yet another snowy missile.  Her girlfriend merely giggled and set to packing another round of snowballs.

“Thought you were supposed to be a super spy, English,” Angie mocked playfully, straightening up and casually launching a snowball into Peggy’s bum. 

“Angie, I am soaking wet - _Angie!_ \- and I’m going -AGH- straight back to work, I’m telling you…” Peggy backed away towards the river, hands extended in a warning gesture, but beaming all the same, because both of them knew that Peggy would let this woman get away with murder.  

Angie’s roaring laugh carried over the snow as she watched Peggy helplessly dance about,  _how on earth have you managed to fall in love with her_ , and she dropped to her knees again to pat together yet another snowball.  

“Angela Martinelli, don’t you dare throw that snowba-  _goddammit!”_ Peggy fell backward as she was hit full on in the face. “Angie, how dare you, I can’t see a thing!” 

“English!”

“Angie I swear to god,” Peggy moaned, staggering to her feet and wandering around blindly as she rubbed at her snow-filled eyes, “I could call up the military and have you  _killed,_  Howard could easily-”

“ _Peggy, stop!”_

“-whip up a powder to remove all evidence from the crime scene, no one would ever-”

“PEGGY!”

Peggy finally dropped her hands from her stinging eyes, blinking up at Angie’s terrified face as her foot-  _oh_.  She desperately scrabbled for purchase on the icy cement that separated the park from the drop into the river, and then she was falling, and she was screaming, and  _bloody hell the water is cold_ , and all she could see as her muscles seized up and she sank down, down, down, was the shock of pink that was Angie’s favorite coat. 

The next day, the New York Times carried the headline “NEW PLAY BY ARTHUR MILLER OPENS TO STUNNING REVIEWS” and the small column beside it announced that two women had tragically drowned in the Hudson River yesterday afternoon, police investigation forthcoming.

 


	6. The Rain Falls Hard (On A Humdrum Town)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from the Smiths, "William, It Was Really Nothing"
> 
> Morrissey inspires me to kill people I love :')

“Peggy, pull over!”

“Angie, we’re perfectly safe, we’re ins-”

“Aw, c’mon, English!” Angie rolled down the car window and stuck her head out, her curls immediately going limp in the downpour. “Not everyday there’s a storm like this!” she yelled gleefully into the sky, the cold droplets of rain bouncing off her face.

Peggy dropped a hand from the wheel to pull her back inside, laughing.  “Darling, you’re going to catch cold,” she admonished gently, reaching up to smooth the dripping locks away from Angie’s flushed cheeks before focusing back on the road.  

Angie’s eyes sparkled. “Pull over, Peg, please, I want to see how hard it’s coming down!”

Peggy glanced over, bemused. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” As if on cue, there was a flash of lightning, illuminating the car in a mock daylight.  Angie squealed and moved again to stick her head out the window. 

“Angie, stop!” Peggy laughed, again reaching over to pull her back inside, but Angie was engrossed with the rain.  “Angie, you wouldn’t want to catch ill for this weekend, come on, darling.” She was lying almost sideways in the front seat now, the shock of cold, cold rain on her hand as she grasped Angie’s shoulder.  She didn’t see the other car. “Don’t make me come out th-”

The blinding light wasn’t the lightning, and that crash couldn’t be thunder, and they were rolling over and over and it was hot and cold at the same time and everything was still.  

Peggy sucked in a breath and slowly raised her head, feeling the slick warmth of blood trickling down her forehead.  Angie was no where to be seen.  “An- Angie?” she called, voice cracking at the effort to speak.  “Darling?”

She kicked and kicked and kicked at the twisted, ruined door until it gave way, and she pulled herself out of the car  _damn that’s a broken wrist_ and swept her gaze up and down the road in a frenzy, looking for that honey hair, the pink coat, and _thank god thank god_ there it was, surrounded by broken metal.  Peggy sprinted over and dropped to her knees, wrenching Angie’s lifeless form out from underneath the twisted mass and held her in her lap.  The rain diluted the blood on her ruined face.


End file.
